Mr. R.’s World of Math

“OK, OK, everyone, let’s move on,” I said, “there’s still more of us who have to introduce ourselves.” 
Finally, after all the students introduced themselves, I assigned them to their desk spots where they all sat quietly. 
Now, on the first day of school, I always let my students design a poster with their name on it to hang on the wall of the classroom, so I handed out markers and paper and let them get to work. 

As I walked around the room learning their names and seeing their artwork, I noticed something strange. ShmipMorp was not making his poster on the paper I’d given them. He was drawing it on his face.

The other students were looking at him as if he was some kind of crazy space alien.
“ShmipMorp, what are you doing?” I asked. 
“Making my poster,” 
“What happened to working on the paper I gave you?”
“I ate it.”
“You ate the paper?”
“Yeah, it was delicious.”
“Do you always eat paper?”
“No, only if it’s eleven inches wide. Skinnier paper sizes don’t taste quite as good.”
“Well, ShmipMorp, I need to hang the posters up on the wall, so I don’t think I could hang yours up when it’s on your face, unless I hang you up on the wall. Do you think you can do one on the paper?”
“Yeah, I guess I can try.”

I gave ShmipMorp another sheet of paper, but a few minutes later, I saw something strange. 
Again, ShmipMorp was not making his poster on the paper I’d given him. He was drawing it on his face.
The other students were looking at him as if he was now some totally crazy alien from space.
“ShmipMorp, what are you doing this time?”
“Making my poster,” 
“I gave you another sheet of paper, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” 
“What happened to it?”
“I ate it.”
“You ate the paper again?”
“Yeah, I simply couldn’t help myself, I was still hungry.”
“ShmipMorp, I don’t want to have to repeat myself again. This is fourth grade. You cannot color the poster on your face. I’m gonna’ give you one more sheet of paper, and if you eat it I’ll have to send you to Principal Grapefruit’s office. Do you understand me?”
“Does Principal Grapefruit have eleven inch paper in his office?”
“ShmipMorp,” I said, “please just make your name poster.
”Ok, Mr. R.” 

If SchmipMorp ate 36 sheets of paper, and I had 127 left, how many sheets had I started with?